Only Human
by wildsky
Summary: Pre-series. Imperious eyes studied the sobbing little girl with no sympathy whatsoever and a hint of amusement crept into the Queen's expression. "It's been a long time since I've had a pet."


**Disclaimer: **I don't own 'em (unless they're originals). Please don't sue me. It's _so_ not worth it.

**A/N: **This has not been checked by a beta, so all mistakes are mine.

**Only Human**

_By Wildsky_

"You should have known better, Warwick."

Winston Devilius seated himself on the chair the guards had placed just inside the entrance to the cell – the only clean object in the room – and met the tired eyes of the man slumped against the far wall. With a sleeping child huddled in his lap like a kitten, the Duke of Chalicin watched the King warily.

"We're both fools then, it seems," Warwick replied, his voice hitching from the earlier attentions of Doctors Dee and Dum. "You for love and I for freedom."

"You had freedom," Winston reminded him sternly but the Duke shook his head.

"A gilded cage, old friend," Warwick said flatly and stroked his daughter's hair. She stirred but didn't wake, exhausted from hours of fright and crying. Her face was streaked with dried tears and it made his breath catch to think that she would soon be all alone. He gazed down at her, memorizing her features all over again. "What will happen to Isobel?"

"I convinced the Queen not to strip your title," Winston told him with a sigh. "Your daughter will inherit everything once you've..."

Winston trailed off, so Warwick filled in the blank. "Been executed."

"You seem remarkably calm for a man who's going to die in a few hours," Winston observed, watching him closely. The Duke had always been a man of passion and strong opinions, one of the few who would question the Queen in her presence. In hindsight, Winston supposed that should have tipped him off. Gods knew that he had intervened on Warwick's behalf more than once, saving him from Mary's temper. Until now. Until the full extent of his betrayal had been revealed.

"Being upset would only scare her," Warwick said simply, shifting gently to hold Isobel just that little bit tighter. In truth, he was terrified. His heart was beating a mile a minute beneath the stoic exterior. There would be no rescue, no escape. The Resistance would not aid him. "She's been through enough today. I won't make it worse for her."

Winston's gaze drifted to the girl curled up against her father's chest, a pang of regret settling in his stomach. She really was a beautiful child, all golden hair and chatter when she was awake. She suddenly seemed so small.

"I'm sorry Isobel got dragged into this. The Queen was explicit when she said that anyone found with you should be taken and you know the Suits – too terrified to use their heads."

The spark of rage that comment caused forced Warwick to bite back any number of angry retorts. No, he wanted to shout, they shouldn't have laid a finger on a seven-year-old child who had done nothing more than sit beside him during breakfast. They shouldn't have dragged her out, thrown over someone's shoulder, and shoved her into the back of a van. They shouldn't have locked her up like a criminal. "That doesn't tell you something?" Warwick asked and watched Winston's expression harden.

The King was notorious for his blind devotion to his wife. He'd conquered a nation for her, squashed rebellions for her. In all the time he'd known Winston Devilius, Warwick had never been able to work out how Mary Heart had won her husband's love. The woman was an icicle, so wrapped up in power and tea that even her son had learned not to expect any signs of affection from her. Even so, Winston was not an intentionally cruel man. The fact that he was sitting quietly in the same room as Warwick showed that much.

Warwick sighed, knowing that trying to make the man see reason was a fruitless endeavour. "Would you make sure Jeanne takes Isobel when the time comes?" The governess would keep her safe – she was like a mother bear where Isobel was concerned.

Winston nodded, acutely aware that the girl was already being unfairly punished for her father's sins. "It's already taken care of."

"Thank you." The sentiment was heartfelt.

With a nod, Winston stood and left the cell. The door swung shut with a metallic _clang_ that startled Isobel and she blinked up at him, her eyes bleary from slumber.

"Welcome back, sunshine," Warwick greeted her, summoning up a smile. He brushed her tangled blonde hair away from her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Did you have good dreams?" It was what he asked her every morning when she got up, wrapped in her pink woollen pajamas, seeking him out in the enormous manor house at Chalicin.

"No..." Isobel's voice was muffled by his shirt and Warwick tried not to wince as she burrowed closer to him, upsetting bruised ribs. He didn't have much time left with her and he'd be damned if he wasted a second. "I want to go home, Papa."

"I know, baby," Warwick murmured, hugging her tightly. "You'll be going home soon, I promise." He tapped the end of her nose with his finger and settled in to tell her one last fairy tale.

_a . l . i . c . e_

Jeanne arrived as promised and it took the combined efforts of the governess and Warwick to convince his daughter to let go of him. Isobel clutched at him, her arms locked around his neck, knowing only that someone was trying to take her away from her Papa.

"Get her back to Chalicin as soon as you can," Warwick murmured to Jeanne and the woman nodded grimly as they finally pried Isobel off him. The child burst into tears, frightened by the knowledge that something bad was happening even if she didn't know exactly what it was. "I love you, sunshine," he whispered to Isobel, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat.

The guards grabbed hold of him and shoved him towards the corridor while Jeanne tried to move in the other direction only to be stopped by a Club.

"Our orders are to escort both of you to the execution."

"You can't be serious," Jeanne hissed at the Club as quietly as she could, aghast at the idea. "You can't expect her to watch!"

"The Queen says the family must be present," the Club replied stiffly, refusing to look the governess in the eyes. He nodded at the Suits, who forced Jeanne to follow the doomed Duke and his escort. When they finally stepped into the killing suite, the Queen was already seated on her heart-shaped throne. She threw one icy look at Jeanne, who sank into the only remaining chair.

The place was packed full of Casino employees, all silent as the grave. Winston got to his feet and cleared his throat.

"Lord Warwick Calon, Duke of Chalicin, you are hereby sentenced to death by beheading for the crime of high treason. Do you have anything to say?"

Warwick looked directly at Isobel. The child's face was buried in the folds of Jeanne's dress, her arms wound around the woman's waist. Jeanne had her hands over Isobel's ears so she wouldn't hear what was about to happen. "I've said everything I need to."

The Queen of Hearts was stone-faced, Winston standing by her side looking solemn.

"Off with his head," she commanded coldly and Warwick closed his eyes as the axeman swung.

Isobel flinched in Jeanne's arms, her whole body going rigid. Jeanne tried to soothe her quietly, her own grief secondary to the orphan girl's distress. She picked Isobel up and let her wind her arms and legs around her, clinging like a limpet. She took one step, searching for the closest exit.

"Where do you think you are going?"

The chilly tone stopped Jeanne dead in her tracks. She slowly turned to face the Queen of Wonderland's stern visage and bobbed the best curtsey she could manage with her arms full of crying child. "I'm under instructions to take the child home, Your Majesty."

"Instructions from whom?" the Queen demanded.

"Well... her father, ma'am," Jeanne replied honestly and struggled not to back away when Mary Heart advanced on her.

"Her father is dead," the Queen said coldly, ignoring the fresh spate of tears that burst forth from Isobel at her words. "The child stays here."

Jeanne could have kissed the King when he interceded. "Children aren't your favourite thing in the world, my love. Surely it isn't necessary to keep the new Duchess here at the Casino. She's far too young to be of any use to us."

The Queen turned her frosty regard on her husband. "The Duke was a traitor. The Duchess shall not have the chance to become one. She stays." Imperious eyes studied the sobbing little girl with no sympathy whatsoever and a hint of amusement crept into the Queen's expression. "It's been a long time since I've had a pet."

Jeanne's heart sank into her toes.


End file.
